Oops!…I did it again!
Have you noticed how all mutual fund ads always end with the gentleman with the husky voice saying the following lines at the speed of light — “Mutual fund investments are subject to market risk. Please read the offer document carefully before investing”? The lines always remind me of fights I used to have with my brother as a child, where we’d both shout over one another, not caring about what was being said, but only trying to pack one more word than the other person in those fifteen seconds before mom entered the room and gave us a look that would’ve even silenced Mr. Pack-Three-Hundred-Thousand-Words-In-A-Second Mutual Fund Guy.
Since reading is about as popular as mutual funds, I wondered what sort of warnings one would have to give to folks embarking on the journey.
Warning 1: “Raunchy books are subject to public scrutiny. Please cover the book completely before reading in a public place”
A few years ago, I heard about this “educational” book written by a lady named E. L. James, and the middle-aged colleague who recommended it to me said that I’d be shocked by some of the things the protagonists did, but that it was sure to add spice to my otherwise celibate reading. Eager to add some glamour to my library, I discretely [dih-skreet; guest login — on incognito mode] ordered the book online. I even had it delivered to my office address, so that no one else bore witness to my misdeed. When I opened the package, I was a bit disappointed, truth be told. On the cover, was a picture of a tie. A very fancy silk tie, mind you, but it almost looked as if it could’ve been the cover of the Vogue magazine, minus the good-looking model. However, my disappointment turned into joy within a few seconds as I realized I could now confidently read the book at home, with no one ever suspecting the naughty content that lay within.
So, I sat in front of my dad and pulled the book out with great élan, and started reading it, even as the adrenalin in my bloodstream sent my heart ticking at a rate that would’ve kept pace with the Mutual Fund Guy’s word velocity. After a few seconds, I peeped over my book to check if my dad had reacted. He continued reading his newspaper without paying me any attention at all.
I needed no prodding the next morning, as I confidently sat in front of dad, coffee in one hand, and the innocuous looking book in the other. Two minutes into my reading however, I felt his gaze on me. When I looked at him, he had a strange smile on his face and said, “I guess my daughter’s grown up now”. I had a strange sensation at the pit of my stomach, but managed to keep a straight face as I asked him, “What made you say that now?” His response wiped the smile off my face. “There is an article in the paper about a new book called Fifty Shades of Grey. Isn’t that the book you are reading right now?” I knew I’d got the pronunciation of the word discretely all wrong. It should’ve read [dih-skreet; cover book — dad is the boss of you]
Warning 2: “Reading funny books is injurious to health and may cause CANCER”
I have a habit of reading a book during lunch. I especially love reading collections of columns since I can read a column or two during my break, and start afresh the next day, without resorting to cursing my memory for having forgotten everything I’d read the day before.
Nothing could stymie my grand plan of reading during lunch. I congratulated myself for having found 30 minutes of pure bliss during my work day, one that very few people could claim for themselves. I was particularly excited one day last week, as in my bag lay a book by one of my favorite authors — Bill Bryson. I didn’t pay any attention to what I was loading on to my plate; I didn’t care which seat I got; I didn’t pay any attention to my neighbours. All I cared about was opening that book and being transported to heaven.
Mr. Bryson didn’t disappoint. He had me grinning ear to ear right from the word go. Half way through the first article, he said something so funny that I laughed out loud. That’s when I realized I should’ve paid more attention to what was on my plate and on its way into my mouth, as the big round kofta ball got stuck in my throat as I was busy laughing. What started as a mild cough very quickly turned into an inability to breathe. My neighbours, (someone else who deserved more attention) realized something was seriously wrong when my skin started turning blue. An attendant came running up to me, stood behind me, and gave me a few sharp blows between my shoulder blades using my book! Out flew the little kofta, and all was well in that part of the world, although the lady whose lunch plate now had the undigested ball didn’t look pleased at all. By way of an apology, I gave her the book and told her it would cheer her up immensely. Yes, funny books can pose a threat of Causing A Neighbour Certain Explosive Reactions, or CANCER, especially when read during lunch.
Warning 3: “This book contains material that may be thought-provoking to some people. Reader discretion is advised”
Back when I was in college, I heard Jim Rohn, the motivational speaker, say something that stuck with me for a long time. He said, “You’re the average of the five people you spend the most time with” As someone who spent most of her time with books, I thought the theory was equally applicable to books. It was a thought that thrilled me to bits. Imagine, I could time travel to the future and preach to the inhabitants of our planet about sustainable living if I spent considerable time reading Stephen Hawking and Bill McKibben. Or better still, I’d be the funny detective who’d not just solve every mystery known to humankind, but also reform criminals to live in peace, and all done in a manner that would leave everyone in splits — all because I’d read enough of Dave Barry, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Ekhart Tolle. The implications were staggering.
Now the problem with strongly associating with such a principle is that there is a strong disassociation with the converse. Every time I saw a book that I deemed not original enough or clever enough, I’d pooh-pooh it and vociferously condemn anyone found reading it. Especially if it appealed to the masses. Surely a book that appeals to everyone cannot be cool enough to like! But I’d have an inexplicable itch to read it. And it so happened that every now and then I’d genuinely enjoy a bestseller. But I could never bring myself to admit it. I’ve seen this phenomenon with quite a lot of people, folks who vehemently express contempt for a popular book, but the glint in their eye tells me that they’d secretly enjoyed the book.
Warning 4: Fascination to all movies may be lost. Are you sure you want to continue?
A friend of mine told me she thought the Harry Potter series was just mediocre. I have one golden rule that I live my life by — “Stay away from anyone who does not <enter any one of the 2,315 synonyms for love> Harry Potter” Now this was a girl who seemed nice by every other measure, and I had a genuine connect with her, so I decided to give her a chance to explain herself. “Err, why do you say that? Was there a particular book you didn’t like, or were you ambivalent to all of them?” She replied, “Oh, I haven’t read the book, I only watched the movies”
Our friendship was not destined to die after all, because I could now use my silver rule, “Don’t judge a book by its movie”. I asked her if she could do something for me. She replied without hesitation, “Anything at all”. I brought her The Philosopher’s Stone, and told her I’d talk to her only after she’d finished reading it. I spent the next three days in great anxiety. When she called me on the fourth day, I enquired after her, and then casually asked, “So how did you like the book?” I hoped my voice didn’t betray my nervousness. Were we destined to be friends after all? I waited for five seconds before I heard her say, “I loved it! What an amazing writer Rowling is!”
I’m proud to say she’s one of my best friends now, and I would’ve said that even if she hadn’t pre-ordered the Cursed Child for me.
Warning 5: Emergency alert! Fire warning in this area until the reader puts down his book.
I had to step out of home on some errand one day, during our early days of marriage. I told my husband whose nose was in a book, “I’ve left the milk on the stove. Could you please check on it in about two minutes?” He responded immediately, “Sure! Don’t you worry, I’ve got it covered”. I was so pleased to have found such a responsible man to share my life with, that I even enjoyed my otherwise mundane outing. Still sporting a proud smile on my face, I turned into the street that my house was in. My nose sensed it before the rest of my senses did. It felt as if some building had been burnt down. With a strange sense of foreboding, I followed my nose to determine the source of the stench. My heart skipped a beat as it led me to my home! It couldn’t be. I prayed fervently that everything was alright. I burst into a fit of cough as soon as I entered my home. My smoke-filled kitchen looked like it had just survived a bush fire. Still coughing and sputtering, I walked towards the stove, and what do you know? The vessel containing milk had turned ebony black, my stove was smeared with some black paste, the roof which was about 10 feet high had a charred look to it. I turned off the gas. I turned to my husband, who, you guessed it right, was still reading the book, oblivious to everything around him. I cleared my throat and asked, “Hey, what happened here?” He barely looked in my direction as he said, “Welcome back, honey. I’ve missed you” I asked him in the sternest voice I could muster, “<Cough> <Cough> Did you turn off the gas like I’d requested you to?” He finally took his eyes away from his book, looked up at me, and said, “Oops”
I’ve got baby Oops on my hands now.
“Have you brushed your teeth darling?”
“Oops”
“Have you had your milk honey bun?”
“Oops”
“Have you used the washroom in the last 4 hours?”
“Oops”
“I hear the sound of a fire engine. Did you have anything to do with it?”
“Oops”
Thank God she loves Harry Potter!
